


A Bad Trigger

by kirk_to_enterpise_15



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, M/M, protective Vulcans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-26 23:22:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1706294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirk_to_enterpise_15/pseuds/kirk_to_enterpise_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A pick-up of prisoners triggers a bad memory for Jim, Spock is worried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bad Trigger

**Author's Note:**

> why am i always hurting jim so much?

“Entering standard orbit, Captain”, Sulu told him over his shoulder. The planet was called Quibiru, where they were supposed to take prisoners on board and drop them off at Starbase 16 for trial. The planet had just become a member of the Federation, and this was supposed to be the Federation's way of welcoming them. By doing them a favor. Jim really didn't want to take a bunch of criminally insane maniacs on board his ship, but hey, Starfleet's orders. He just had to keep them locked up for a couple of days while they waited to get to the base. He'd only read the files briefly, after the first one being so disturbing, he didn't want to read anymore. That may have been a bad idea.

They were supposed to go down and see the Quibiru counsel and do all that friendly welcome bullshit and then take their prisoners. Should be a real blast. It'd been about seven months since they had started their maiden voyage. Jim was actually hoping this would be a boring mission, after the last one that blew up in their faces. It made him shudder just thinking about it. “Thank you, Mr. Sulu”, he said, pressing down on the button for Engineering. “You got the coordinates for us, Scotty?” “Aye, sir. Ready when ye are”, the chief engineer answered brightly. “Alright”, he said before pressing the one for sickbay. "Meet us in the transporter room, doc”, he said before getting up. He needed McCoy to exam the prisoners before beaming them up. “Spock, you're with me. Sulu, you have the conn”, he said as he and Spock walked briskly to the turbolift.

Once they were inside, Spock turned to him. “Captain, if you are not otherwise occupied after we return to the ship, would you perhaps be interested in finishing our game of chess?” Spock asked as soon as they were in. “Of course, Spock. I can't wait to wipe the floor with you”, Jim responded, smiling slyly. Puzzlement passed Spock's features for a moment, which had been the reaction Jim had expected and come to love. It was so ador- _ehhem_ interesting to see that look on his face. Dammit Jim get these stupid thoughts out of your head. Oh god he's starting to sound like Bones. "Wipe the...floor with me, sir?” Spock asked, looking like he really didn't want to know the answer. “Just another strange human colloquialism, Mr. Spock”, Jim explained before they stepped out. They walked in synch to the transporter pad, which had just seemed to happen at some point a while ago. They had become even closer since the Khan incident, and played chess almost everyday if they could, and took most of their meals together.

Scotty was leaning over the transporter control when they walked in, the room empty. The Scotsman nodded at them right as Bones walked in after them. "Alright let's get this show on the road. Hold up, where's security?" He asked, taking in the room. "We got orders not to bring any, we don't want to seem too threatening since they still don't trust us very much", Jim explained, rolling his eyes as they all hopped on the transporter pads. The doctor's eyes widened before grumbling something incoherently at that. "Energize", he ordered. He felt the familiar white around him as his molecules were rearranged and then they were on the surface of the planet.

A Quibiru was standing there waiting for them, flanked by two security guards. Oh but _they_ weren't allowed to bring any security? They resembled closely to humans, except they had antennas and blue skin. Okay so they weren't very human but their others features looked humanish. "Welcome, Captain Kirk. We are pleased to have you all here. I am Mechen", he spoke in a slight accent and stuck his right antenna out, which was their official greeting. The landing party just bowed slightly in greeting, seeing as they had no antennas. "Thank you, sir. We are honored to be here. This is my first officer, Commander Spock and our chief medical officer, Dr. McCoy". After all the other formalities were done, Mechen took them to their headquarters, where the prisoners were currently being held.

Mechen told them the whole story on the way and what all the prisoners had done. There was only about seven of them, who were the worst of the planet, he said. He really hoped they could just beam the prisoners up and get out of here and not have to speak to them. From what he'd been hearing, their crimes sounded unbelievably vile and cruel. "The last criminal...his name is Deerge. He was running a hospital for our young, which turned out to be a sham. He'd been..." and here Mechen took a shuddering breath before continuing. "Sexually abusing the children. Not many of the other workers knew, but some of them did and finally one told us. It was a truly horrendous thing to hear. We shut it down as soon as we heard of course, and had him arrested".

Jim unconsciously clenched his fist when he heard this. He tried to stamp down the memories it brought up but couldn't help the obvious look of disgust that crossed his features. He saw Bones look at him out of the corner of his eye, worry clear on his face, already knowing his friend better than Jim probably liked. "How long had this...establishment been going on for?" Spock asked, although his face was blank, the disgust in his voice was hard to miss. Mechen was quiet for a moment before responding. "A few...years. We are ashamed we did not discover sooner", he said, shaking his head ruefully.

Nobody ever seems to find out until after a few years. All those marks and bruises, people just tend to ignore them. People like to think nothing's wrong and that someone would never harm a child, right? That the 23rd century was way past that... "Didn't anyone notice anything...?" McCoy's voice brought Jim back to reality. Spock was looking at him strangely now, oh God he hoped he didn't look as sick as he felt. Mechen sighed softly, shaking his head once again."Deerge was a well respected man. No one would have questioned him". They had approached the headquarters, which was a tall, sleek, silver building. It contrasted nicely with its surroundings.

It was a welcoming distraction for Jim. And God dammit why was Spock still looking at him like that? Jim kept his face carefully blank, he wasn't planning on revealing anything today. Or ever, if he could help it. "Well here we are. It is a shame we don't have time to converse more, about better things of course, gentleman. I will have my guards bring the prisoners out for you. Help yourselves to our food and beverages if you will", he told them, giving them a wide smile before walking off. Well that was a great story to leave them with, Jim thought with a slight shake of his head. Bones went over to discreetly scan the food, which he failed at miserably, but whatever, better be safe than sorry.

He wasn't very hungry anyways. Bones got some sort of fancy looking punch and offered it to Jim and Spock. He didn't feel much like drinking either, but he could see the Quibirus eyes on him and didn't want to be rude. So he took it with a slightly forced smile. "Thanks Bones". He called up the ship on his communicator to get them ready for transport. So he took a little more time than necessary talking to Scotty about the engines, he totally wasn't stalling going back to Spock and Bones. Nope, not at all.

He went back over to them right before Mechen came back, so there wasn't much time for conversation. He knew he'd be hearing a mouth full from McCoy when they got back to the ship, if he was reading those looks right. Behind him were the seven prisoners, all chained up. Jim didn't even spare them a glance. McCoy had to briefly exam them, and they all surprisingly stayed silent. Finally Jim sucked it up and looked at them. Whatever the Quibirus had done to them, it had clearly worked. They looked worn out, their eyes downcast. He didn't want to think about which one was Deerge. Bones gave him a slight nod, indicating he was done.

"We would really have loved to have you and your crew stay longer, Captain, but unfortunately these criminals must be tried as soon as possible. Well if you are ever near our planet again, we welcome you." “We thank you for your generous hospitality, Mechen. You have been a most gracious host”, Jim told him, trying to keep his voice steady, but it sounded strained to his ears. Jim gave him a tight smile and a nod before telling his engineer to beam the prisoners up. After Mechen talked about how great the Federation was and blah blah trying to suck up, he finally let them leave. Jim gave him one last hopefully warm smile before he felt himself being beamed back up to the ship. _At least no one died_ , he thought, which didn't help much. He sighed internally when he saw the look Bones was giving him. Damn, he had to get to the bridge before he could start bombarding him with questions on his mental well-being and all that fun stuff. "Good job, guys. I think our diplomatic skills are getting better", he mused out loud as he quickly strode out of the room.

They were at his heels faster than cheetahs. "Jim you better not be going back to the bridge..." Bones started, which Jim just rolled his eyes to. Damn mother-hen. Bones gave out a long frustrated sigh and grabbed his arm. Jim imperceptibly flinched. But it was enough for both his first officer and doctor to notice, of course. Damn it, man. Damn his subconscious for sounding like Bones all the time. The doctor pulled his hand back quickly and gave him an apologetic look. "Look, just promise me you'll come by my office later okay?" Bones whispered to him, which _really_ , super Vulcan hearing hello. Jim merely nodded to get him to leave. He knew Bones was doing this out of friendship but he hated talking about that stuff. Hopefully he would go see him and they'd just get drunk. Sounds a hell of a lot better than sitting down and talking out his feelings.

He had had just about enough of Spock's staring for one day, and finally snapped. "Do I have something on my face, Commander?" Spock looked taken aback at that. "No Captain, there is nothing on your face. Why would-", he started, sounding as confused as Spock ever could before Kirk put his hand up to stop him. "Never mind, sorry I snapped at you. Let's just get to the bridge", he said, shaking his head at himself, before entering the turbo lift, where a nervous-looking ensign joined them. They both nodded at her, and there was a tense silence until the doors to the bridge finally opened.

Jim wasted no time in ordering the helmsman to leave orbit and then they were off. Hopefully he wouldn't have any incidents with the criminals on board. They had been ordered to the brig with five guards posted outside. They had everything they needed so hopefully this trip would be a quiet one. But with this ships' luck well...who knows. The atmosphere on the bridge was a bit tense, like everyone was bracing themselves for an attack. Which was understandable, considering the last mission. It had left three crewmembers dead and several injured. When the shift ended, Jim got up tiredly, just wanting to get to his quarters. He wasn't sure if he'd be getting much sleep tonight, though.

He'd completely forgotten about the chess match until Spock joined him in the lift and asked about it. “I'm sorry, Spock, I totally forgot. Um, look I've still got a lot of paperwork to do on that Kintin mission, so raincheck? Human expression meaning we could do it at another time, if that's okay”, he said, sort of hating himself for it. He'd never turned down Spock before, not unless a mission got in the way or something equally disastrous happened. The strangest thing happened then, Jim saw open curiosity in Spock's eyes before he shut down again and straightened almost imperceptibly, nodding tersely. He got off at his deck, and bid Spock goodnight. He just wasn't sure if he could deal with a chess match with Spock right now without...freaking out on him?

I mean it's not like he'd just blurt out his undying love for Spock, he had some self-control! Although the urge to tell Spock about his... _feelings_ had been especially strong as of late. But what happened on Quibiru had triggered some memories and he didn't want Spock to see him lose it. So it's better to just stay away. It's always seemed better to just stay away from everyone, so you couldn't hurt them with your own problems. He was protecting Spock in a way, right? It wasn't just what had happened today though, these last few weeks had been especially stressful and strenuous and that usually brought on night terrors. It was strange since he hadn't had nightmares since he was a teenager after Tarsus. But after Khan he'd had plenty, it wasn't until at least a couple of months that he'd gotten a goodnight's sleep.

Sometimes when shit out here got really bad, the nightmares resurfaced. Quibiru was just another contributing factor. He arrived at his quarters and went straight for the shower. When he was finished, he replicated himself a chicken sandwich and sat down at his terminal. He _did_ have a lot of paperwork to do, and needed to figure out where and when the crews' next shore leave would be. They all really deserved it after these last few months. He probably needed it the most, not that he would ever admit that. He worked himself raw, pushing down his thoughts, until sleep finally overtook him.

_Pots and pans were flying over the counter in the kitchen when Jim came home that day. “You bastard! You weren't working last night, you were fucking some-”, Winona stopped when she heard the front door shut. Jim thought about making a run for it either upstairs or back out, but then it was too late. “Hi, Jimmy, I'm going out for a little bit. Frank's gonna watch you”, his mother told him as calmly as she could (which wasn't very) as she walked out abruptly, not even glancing at him. Jim didn't say anything as she left. He knew she wouldn't be coming back for quite some time. It was another one of her...rampages. Frank walked out then, an ugly smirk forming on his lips as he looked over at 11 year-old Jim Kirk. He took a large gulp of his beer as he stepped closer. “Looks like it's just you and me for a while, Jimmy boy”, the words were a bit slurred as he put his arm around Jim. This was the first time he'd been left completely alone with Frank, since Sam had just run off. That was the beginning of so many insufferable nights alone with that...monster._

He woke up in a cold sweat, reaching for something- _anything_ \- but was only met with cold air. He was breathing heavily, images swirling in his head that he wanted to knock out, shove out of an air lock. He pulled the covers off roughly and stood up. He wouldn't be getting any more sleep tonight. He pulled on a pair of sweats and a shirt before hightailing it out of there. He hated his quarters sometimes, they were too claustrophobic. Which was funny considering he was on a ship, where there really is no fresh air. He loved her anyways, loved the feel of her walls and the humming noise she made under his feet as he walked her halls late on nights like these. It comforted him, calmed him. Made him remember who he was now and how far he had come...from that. But sometimes it was hard to remember. He was safer out here in _fucking_ space than he had ever been there.

His feet carried him to his favorite spot on the ship: the observation deck. It was usually empty, for some reason people just didn't come here often. Tonight was no different. He walked over to the railing and leaned over, looking up at the stars. The stars were the one constant for him, wherever he was, they would never leave him. They couldn't. They had been there in Riverside on late nights when Jim had looked out his window, trying to ignore the smell of liquor on Frank's breath and his filthy hands everywhere. He would just look at the stars, which had become a sort of home to him, more than Riverside or his family had ever been. He didn't know why, but he just felt connected to them. But didn't everyone? More than to his own mother for crying out loud, though.

He would hope for some kind of answer to come from them, some way to get out of this fucked up situation. What had he done to deserve it? Then Frank had given him his vicious answers. _“You deserve it, you little shit. You know how much I do for you around here? Your own mother isn't around to take care of you, but I'm still here aren't I? I put food on the table. I give you everything you need, you're lucky to have me. Don't I deserve something in return?”_ He stopped asking questions after that. He knew what Frank had said was wrong and fucked up, but when he was younger a big part of him believed it. Even now, a tiny, shriveled up part of him believed those nasty words. The words wouldn't leave his head now, and his damn hand wouldn't keep still. _You're nothing, no one. The only thing people will ever remember about you is your damn dad killing himself for that stupid crew that he wasn't even captain of!_ He tightened his grip on the railing and took a deep breath to calm himself. He knew it wasn't healthy to still believe some of that, but hey he had gone to a few therapists as a kid, just none of them had helped. When his mom had found out, after filing Frank for divorce and getting him arrested, she sent him to as many as she could. She was so wracked with guilt and grief after that she didn't really even notice that none of them were really helping. She just saw what she wanted to see. And what she wanted was for her baby boy to get better, and move on from this and never have to go through it again. This seemed to be a pattern with her, when he was just a baby, after George died, she'd also been wracked with grief that she'd ignored her own son's needs.

The year she found out, he was thirteen years old. He had felt so numb that day, Frank had done it again after he'd accidentally broken a stupid plate. A damn _plate_. Talk about overreacting. He didn't feel much anymore it seemed, just disgust and anger at Frank and himself. He just wanted to remember what it felt like to be alive, to feel something other than hot, fueling anger and loathing and disgust. So he'd stolen the keys while Frank was blind drunk on the couch and taken his father's old red corvette out of the garage to take her for a little spin. That car was the only thing he had left of his father, the only thing he really knew about him. His mother hardly mentioned him, especially not since she'd married Frank. Sam had told him some stories about his father when he was younger, which had just pissed Jim off more. He hated his father so fucking much for _leaving_ them with that bastard, and he'd taken that goddamned car and drove as fast as he could. And he'd never felt more alive than when he was tumbling towards his death. Ironic how that works, isn't it? He's always been an adrenaline junkie, after all.

Of course he berated himself for hating George Kirk, a man who everyone seemed to praise and who everyone loved comparing him to, even though he'd never met him. People seemed to forget that a lot. On his mother's really bad days when he was a kid, she couldn't even bear to look him in the eyes. The eyes that were so much like those of her dead husband's, seeing Jim every day was a reminder of what she had lost. Never what she had gained. He hated being his father's ghost. Winona had tried to look at him for who he was, _Jim_ , and not just George's son, but it was so hard that eventually she just gave up. Did she forget he was her son too?

He didn't hear the footsteps approach, so lost in his memories, so when Spock touched him lightly on the shoulder it startled him and he jumped. “Ah, shit, Spock. You scared me”, he said, giving him a sheepish grin. “I did not mean to, Jim. Why are you not in your quarters, asleep?” Jim gave him a shrug, “Can't sleep. Thought I'd wander a bit. Didn't think anybody would come back here.” He looked up at Spock, who was just as beautiful and enigmatic as the stars. Spock had also somehow become like a home to him, he felt just as connected to Spock as he did with the stars. Something just drew them together, some sort of strange, almost electrical force. He'd felt it the first day he'd met Spock, like a sizzling wire going off. And he had been so damn compelling ever since, even when he was choking him to death and marooning him on Delta Vega.

Well, anyways, who knew. It was too late to contemplate such things anyways. And Spock was now looking at him with something akin to...concern. He'd learned to read Spock a lot better since their first mission, it was truly _fascinating_ how much the twitch of an eyebrow could sometimes give away. His eyes gave away a lot too, though. His beautiful, chocolate brown eyes...Jesus he could melt just by staring at them. Okay, stop it, Kirk, FOCUS. “Jim?” Spock asked, the concern in his voice now quite prominent. He seemed to be repeating himself. “Mhm?” Jim hummed, finally snapping out of his reverie. “I asked if you'd been to see Doctor McCoy. Perhaps he could give you some sort of sleeping aid”, he told Jim, and then did something pretty unexpected, he placed his hand on Jim's shoulder. Spock, being a touch telepath and all, rarely touched anyone. In fact, the only person he seemed to let touch him was...Jim. Although he was rarely the one who initiated the contact.

Jim's brain stuttered to a stop at the feel of Spock's hot hand on his shoulder. He stared at it for a few seconds. Spock's touch did that to him a lot. He opened his mouth to say- what exactly?- when Spock spoke first. “I must admit, Jim, I am quite concerned about your well-being. Today's events, while not physically exerting, were quite disturbing to hear about”. Finally Jim got a grip on himself when Spock pulled his hand back. “You could say that. But I'm fine, Spock, thanks for your concern. I guess I'm just a little stressed is all”, he responded, which wasn't a lie. He looked back up at the stars, promptly ending that discussion, and instead asked, “Aren't they fascinating?” Spock gave him a raised eyebrow, but nodded nonetheless. They stood there in companionable silence, looking out as the ship whizzed by the stars.

He could stay here all night, with Spock by his side while they looked out together. They could go and cuddle over in the corner and he would definitely fall asleep that way. He allowed himself one longing look at Spock before deciding he should probably leave before he did something stupid, like kiss him. Or worse, tell him the real reason he couldn't sleep. And then Spock would never be able to look at him in the same way. However, before he left he decided he would be an idiot and ask Spock: “Care to finish that game of chess now? Since I probably won't fall asleep and you need less sleep...I mean it would be illogical of me to waste that time by just sitting in my quarters, wouldn't it?” He was very well aware of the fact that he had plenty of paperwork that could keep him busy all night long, and then some, but he hoped Spock wouldn't mention that. “Your logic is...sound”, Spock finally seemed to settle on and they both started towards Jim's quarters.

They were quiet most of the way, as Spock shot Jim a few surreptitious looks on the way. He knew something was blatantly wrong and troubling his Captain, but he didn't want to pry. He knew if he, as the human expression goes, pushed Jim into a corner he would run out on him and probably never tell Spock anything. So he had to be patient, although a little insistent, until Jim was ready to tell him. Spock could ( _would love to_ his mind supplied helpfully) comfort Jim, if only he would let him. The thing about Jim, however, is that he tries so hard to act like everything's fine (and he usually succeeds) until someone literally has to force him to admit to there being anything wrong and make him spell it out. He always acts like his feelings aren't important, as if they should be ignored and not have to bother anyone else with them. It made Spock angry to think of whoever had taught Jim that he wasn't deemed worthy, or important enough, for someone to actually care about him. He was always putting others' needs before his own, including Spock's.

Sometimes Spock thinks Jim has the best “poker face” on the ship. Spock may be good at suppressing and controlling his emotions (most of the time, anyway) and keeping them off of his face, but Jim had a much better method. He hid behind smiles and laughter through most hardships he faced in life. Most people fell for it, of course, because he was so good at it. It was pretty obvious he'd had a lot of practice at hiding his feelings, probably his whole life. Jim and Spock had a lot more in common than they could have ever imagined when they first met. Spock liked to think that he had gotten to read Jim pretty well, and vice versa. He used to fall for that smile too. Now he knew better, and it seemed the only other person who did as well was the doctor.

They reached Jim's door and went inside. He had left the chess board as it was, since they hadn't finished their last game. Jim walked to the replicator as Spock took his usual seat in front of the board. He came back with two steaming cups of tea and set one down in front of Spock. “Thank you, Jim”, Spock said, watching him carefully as he took his seat. He looked at Spock and plastered on a smile, which did not reach his eyes. Spock wanted nothing more than to make him smile a real smile, his beautiful smile that was like the sun that lit up Spock's world. However illogical that was. “I believe it was your move”, he tells Jim, taking a sip of the hot herbal tea. Jim thought for a moment before picking up his rook and making his move. His method was unorthodox, but nevertheless effective, like everything else he seemed to do in life. He should have expected no less from James Kirk when they had first begun playing. As the game progressed, it was quite obvious neither of them were very focused on it. Spock was coming up with multiple different ways to approach the subject of what was causing Jim pain, while Jim was trying very hard to not focus on that pain. It was a lot easier to do with Spock in the room.

Their usual comfortable silence was still filled with tension though, coming from both of them and neither knowing what the hell to do about it. Jim was pretty sure Spock knew something was up, since he was clever and attentive like that. He was good at reading into things, like Jim. Spock took one long (hopefully quiet) breath before breaking the silence. “Jim”, was all he said, to which Jim looked up at him quickly. Spock wasn't sure what to say after that. Jim raised his eyebrows, but didn't comment as he waited. It seemed like eons before Spock finally spoke again: “Are you well?” The Captain's hand froze in the middle of picking up his knight, before focusing again and making his move. “Check”, he said quietly instead. “ _Jim_ ”, Spock admonished gently. Jim lifted his gaze to meet Spock's head-on and spoke in a deceptively light tone. “Nothing's troubling me, Spock. Like I told you earlier, it's just stress”. Spock stared him down until Jim couldn't take it anymore and had to look away. It was like he was looking straight into his damn soul and unraveling all his darkest secrets.

He really didn't like it, he felt so damn vulnerable. He trusted Spock with all his heart though, which he didn't do so easily, but he still didn't like feeling so exposed. “Your move”, Jim spoke quietly, trying to seem intent on the board and the next move. Spock stood up then, and came over to Jim's side. He was just about to ask him what the hell he was doing when Spock lightly grabbed him by the hand and brought him over to the bed. There was a shock of electricity when their hands met, running up each of their bodies. They both tried to ignore how that made them feel. Spock got down on his knees next to the bed, trying to be as non-threatening as he could as he lightly sat Jim down on the edge of the bed. He didn't want to scare the human away. His wonderful, _fragile_ human, as much as Jim would hate hearing that. While Jim was especially skillful in hand to hand combat, there were too many other beings out there stronger than him. They could over power him, hurt him, and Spock really hated that. He wanted to make sure that no one would ever be able to hurt Jim, especially not with Spock at his side.

He tried to project as much of the protectiveness and tenderness he was feeling as he could through the touch to Jim. “I would have your thoughts” Spock told him, his hand still laying on Kirk's, as he lifted his other. Jim flinched away, his panic rising. _Shit. Fuck. No. Spock cannot have my thoughts, he'll never look at me the same._ He searched his mind for some sort of evasion technique he could use. Like, oh, maybe the most obvious one. Like why the hell Spock wanted to have his thoughts exactly. He'd never asked before. Sure they had done it a few times in emergency situations or something, but that was it. And his meld with the old Spock.

Spock put his hand back down apologetically. “I-look-it's nothing. I'm fine, you don't have to-”, Jim started, but the words stuck in his throat as he stared at the warm expression in Spock's eyes. How was he supposed to refuse Spock when he looked like _that_? “Jim”, Spock prodded, squeezing his fingers lightly. Oh wow, Spock was holding Jim's hand. And Vulcan hands-that thought was cut off abruptly at Spock's next words. “I could take some of your burden away. You do not have to be alone”. Before he could tell Spock that he couldn't do that to him, a huge surge of warmth and love coursed through his veins. That definitely hadn't come from him so... _Spock_. Damn, touch telepath. Jim probably should have remembered that.

“ _Please_ , Jim. Let me have your thoughts”, Spock said, projecting more calm through the touch. Jim seemed to relax a bit. “I don't think you'll like what you see”, Jim told him, sighing, running his hand through his hair nervously. “Jim, I wish to ease your pain in any way I can, you are being foolish if you think that. _Let me help_ ”, Spock said these words as he gazed into Jim's eyes. Jim felt something tug at his heart when he heard that, and finally made a decision. “Okay, Spock. Okay”, he sighed and leaned forward on the bed, and Spock slowly lifted his hand to his psi-points, giving Jim plenty of time to move away. He didn't. “My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts...”, he heard distantly as their two minds joined. This meld felt a lot different than the others. Spock's mind was like cool water washing over Jim's turbulent thoughts that felt like they were on fire. He realized Spock was waiting for permission for him to completely enter his mind. _Such a gentleman, yes Spock_ , he thought, a tiny flutter of amusement passing between them, despite the situation.

_A smaller, younger Jim was laying on a bed, still and hardly breathing, as a taller and heavier figure, reeking of alcohol, hovered over him, his pants down to his ankles. Spock felt his own anger flaring as he watched the scene unfold, desperately wishing to pull the disgusting man off. Soon, he was plunged into another memory similar to this one, only this time the man was hitting him. And then another similar one, and another, until they all blurred together. Every time, Spock projected as much comfort as he could to the little boy, trying to heal his mind. He saw a glimpse of piled bodies and smelt decay so powerful even through his mind before he felt himself being physically and mentally pushed out._

“Not that”, Jim mumbled as Spock caught himself before he could fall from Jim's shove. They were silent, as Jim looked down, avoiding eye contact with Spock, whose mind was reeling from all that he saw. “Kaiidth”, Jim spoke softly, barely a murmur, but Spock heard him. He looked at Jim in surprise. “Sorry if I horribly mispronounced that, but I remember you saying that once. What is, is, right?” Jim finally looked up at him, his expression as fragile and vulnerable as he had ever seen it. He looked like he was trying to harden his features and look nonchalant and distant, like he was expecting some sort of rejection. Spock realized belatedly that he hadn't said a word and Jim probably thought Spock was disgusted or some other illogical reaction. Spock's heart almost broke at that look as he slowly nodded. He wanted to wrap his arms around Jim and tell him everything was going to be alright, but he wasn't sure if his touch would be welcome at the moment. Jim had moved his hand away, and now they weren't touching at all, although there were barely a few inches between them. Spock tried to be as non-threatening as he could and leaned back a little. “I grieve with thee”, Spock said in a soft tone, before gently intertwining their fingers together.

Jim stared down at their fingers, deciding to remember right at this moment that Vulcans kiss with their hands. Spock's cheeks turned slightly green as the thought crossed his mind, and it felt as if he was going to pull away but Jim merely held on tighter. “Thank you”, he told Spock after another moment of silence. They stared at each other for a moment before Spock stood up and slowly sat next to him on the bed, but kept some distance, like Jim was a spooked animal. The silence was nice, the warmth radiating from the Vulcan's body felt _amazing_ and Jim didn't want to have to ever move again. His mind felt...better, was the only word he could really think of, after the meld. Spock hesitated for a moment before putting his arm around Jim. Jim didn't have any reaction to that, so Spock thought it might be safe to gently guide him down on the bed with him. Jim curled into Spock and burrowed his head into Spock's neck.

Spock tightened his arms around Jim protectively, and anger surged through his body at the thought of who he was protecting him from. The anger and hatred towards that man was so fierce that Jim nearly recoiled from it. Spock tried to put his anger at bay, he'd forgotten Jim could feel it as well. Instead, he sent Jim more love and warmth through the touch. “I am sorry, Jim. I find myself wishing to find that...monster and make him pay for what he did to you. Is he still alive?” Spock barely held back a growl emanating from his throat, not wanting to frighten Jim. Jim nodded his head, and snuggled closer to Spock. “That won't change anything”, he mumbled into Spock's throat. Spock didn't know how to respond, so instead he curled his hand through Jim's soft hair. “I am truly sorry for what happened to you, ashaya”, he told Jim as he pressed a light kiss to his forehead. Jim's throat tightened when he heard Spock's voice so full of emotion. “Me too”, he croaked out, willing his tears to not fall. “You are safe now, t'hy'la”.

The crying started out quietly, but Spock noticed and began rubbing his back soothingly. Jim couldn't help the sobs that escaped his lips after and the shaking that followed. Spock conveyed as much affection and safety as he could through their touch, and held him more tightly. Jim grabbed ahold of Spock's shirt tightly and buried his face deeper. Spock whispered soothing Vulcan endearments as Jim continued to sob. He had to let it all out, he hadn't cried like this in a long, long time. He had never truly grieved for the childhood that had been stolen from him. Spock felt his suffering coming off of him in waves, and tried to take as much of it away as he could. The sobbing was quite quick, and the tears stopped falling as well as the shaking after a bit. Spock didn't stop rubbing his back, though, and continued to hold him in his arms. “Thank you, Spock. I don't know what I'd do without you”, Jim said, his voice hoarse from the crying, looking up at Spock. “And I without you”, Spock responded in kind. They stared at each other, both seeming to realize the position they were in.

Neither wanted to move, though. Jim lifted his face up, now a mere two inches away from Spock's. His eyes were a darker blue than normal and Spock couldn't seem to look away. Spock gently wiped a stray tear from Jim's cheek, and the moment seemed to freeze in time. It wasn't actually very clear who moved first, or if it was at the same time, but soon their lips crashed together. It was messy and needy but it didn't matter because it felt so _right_. Their tongues clashed together, as they found each other's hands to kiss the Vulcan way. When they pulled away, both were breathing heavily. They gazed at each other for a moment before leaning in again. This time, the kiss was nice and languid. “Taluhk nash-veh k'dular”, Spock whispered breathlessly against Jim's lips when they pulled away. “What does that mean?” Jim whispered back just as breathlessly, their foreheads pressed together. “I cherish thee”, Spock answered, going down to Jim's neck and tracing his tongue lightly over his collarbone, making Jim shiver. He traced Spock's palm with his middle and index finger, hoping he was doing it right. Spock's breath hitched at the caresses, so he'd take that as a yes. Jim liked making that sound come out of Spock.

Spock broke the kiss and leaned back down on the pillows, taking Jim with him. Jim snuggled closer to him, as they both still struggled with breath. "Never knew you felt...like _that_ ", Jim mumbled into his chest. Spock kissed Jim's neck chastely and sweetly before replying, "I was not aware of your...regard either". "I guess we're both idiots then, huh?" Jim leaned up on his elbows and gave Spock a dazzling smile before he gave Spock a quick kiss on the lips. Spock ran his hands through Jim's disheveled hair that he loved so much and they both laid there for a quiet moment. "Sorry I cried all over your shirt", Jim said barely above a whisper, as he leaned into his neck, breathing in Spock's scent. "Apologies are unnecessary Jim. I am glad I was able to...take away some of your pain", Spock told him sincerely. Jim looked up and gave Spock a shy smile, one he wasn't used to seeing on Jim's face. "Thanks for that", he told Spock just as sincerely after a moment.

"Would you be amenable to sleep now?" Spock asked, his eyebrow raised in question. Jim grinned and leaned in to nip at Spock's lower lip. "You wanna sleep _right_ now?" He asked, raising his own eyebrows. He could feel through his contact that all Jim really wanted to do was sleep, and by sleep he meant really sleep. Jim wanted Spock, he _really_ wanted him. But not after...everything he'd just shown Spock in his mind. He wouldn't want... Spock stopped their motions and brought his hand up to caress Jim's jaw. “Do not be ridiculous, _t'hy'la_. I would never think differently of you because of that”, Spock said, staring straight into Jim's eyes. Damn touch telepaths. “There is nothing, _absolutely nothing_ about your past that would make me think any less of you, Jim. It is just not possible”, he was still caressing his jaw and Jim gulped around a lump in his throat that wasn't there before. He gave Spock a strained smile and nodded instead of saying anything, because he really didn't want to start crying _again_. Spock pulled them down again and ran his hands through Jim's hair again. He really loved doing that.

They laid in contemplative silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the other's company. “I love you so much”, Jim mumbled before he felt sleep coming over him. He could definitely sleep if it was in Spock's arms. “And I you, t'hy'la”, he murmured back, kissing Jim's forehead. “What does that word mean?” Jim asked groggily, his eyes already falling shut. “In human terms, I believe “soulmate” would be the appropriate word”, Spock told him, feeling warmth spread through both of them at the sound of that. “Goodnight, t'hy'la”, Jim murmured, and fell asleep with a huge smile on his face.


End file.
